


Encounters Unforeseen

by 1848pianist



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Canon Era, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, M/M, Slow Burn, X-Men: First Class (2011)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-09-10 19:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8929240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1848pianist/pseuds/1848pianist
Summary: "For a first meeting thing - either Charles or Erik, it doesn't really matter, accidentally injures the other and feels really bad about it and keeps trying to make up for it."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So...this got away from me a bit. I'm also cheating a little at this whole exchange thing, as this is only the first chapter of a fic that turned out to be longer than I intended. The chapters to follow are probably more in line with the original prompt, to be honest. So sorry it isn't finished on time! My IRL December turned out to be something of a mess, and here we are. 
> 
> Anyway, this is based on the original prompt, with a couple of themes I've wanted to try writing mixed in, including Erik not knowing about other mutants before meeting Charles and Charles finding it more difficult to read Erik's mind. I took the word "accidentally" a bit loosely from the prompt! 
> 
> In any case, I hope the fic is still enjoyable (and readable), despite it being rushed and a bit creative with interpretation of the prompt!

Charles is drinking alone, which only half of one of his favorite pastimes. Raven has been turning him down when he offers to take her out drinking lately, and since he’s promised not to read her mind he can’t figure out exactly why. He has a few theories, of course, especially since the incident where she asked if he would date her – imagine that. However, suspicions and actual understanding are two different things.

Charles sighs. He may not be allowed to read Raven’s mind, but he has no such agreement with anyone in this bar. Without reading deeply into anyone’s thoughts, he scans the minds immediately surrounding him, skimming the surfaces to see if he finds anyone interesting enough to introduce himself to.

Unfortunately, there is a sad lack of coeds in this bar, or indeed people his own age. The thoughts he does pick up are mundane and fail to excite the slightest spark of interest in him, so he orders another drink and makes a mental note to avoid this bar in the future.

The door opens as he’s taking the first sip, and Charles senses right away that this mind is different. For one thing, the emotions contained within it are strong enough for Charles to pick up instantly and without even concentrating. But something is different – the specific thoughts, words and sentences and concrete feelings – are inaccessible to him, as if hidden behind a frosted glass window. Charles turns around to get a glimpse of the person the mind belongs to.

He sees a man, somewhat taller than he is, with auburn hair and glaring grey eyes. For one moment, they make eye contact across the room. Then the man looks away, scanning the whole contents of the bar in a sweeping glance.

Charles keeps looking, puzzled. Usually he can pick up basic information like names, age, occupation and so on from a single look into someone’s mind. This man’s identity is buried deep within his consciousness. Charles doesn’t even know if he could find it if he pried.

The man’s natural inclination towards privacy – immunity to Charles’ power? – fascinates him all the more. There’s nothing like a challenge for catching a telepath’s attention. The one thing that Charles can tell is that this man is a mutant, and a fairly powerful one, though he can’t work out his specific power. Perhaps it has something to do with why his mind is naturally somewhat protected from Charles’ telepathy.

Swallowing down the last of his drink, Charles walks over to introduce himself. He doubts that his usual witticisms will work on this individual, so he starts off with the essentials, just a smile and introduction. Before he can open his mouth, though, the man gives him a cold look and walks back out of the bar.

Confused, intrigued, and more than a little thrown off his game, Charles follows him. He wants to know how the man is resisting his telepathy, at the very least. However, the stranger is _fast_ – he’s out of sight almost immediately. Charles thinks he’s lost him until he realizes he’s just ducked around the corner rather than continuing down the street in Charles’ line of sight.

Telepathy can make one rather reckless, so Charles doesn’t even consider the possible consequences of following a total stranger with unknown abilities down a poorly lit alleyway. He does decide that if he doesn’t catch up to the man within a block, he’ll find a different bar. At least he can try to convince himself that he’s just doing this out of curiosity. He is glad that Raven isn’t here to witness this.

Charles suddenly stops dead in the middle of the alley. Not only is it totally empty, other than him, but he can no longer feel the other man’s mind at all.

“Hello?” he calls out. “I didn’t mean to alarm you, I just—”

Something shoots out from behind him, just out of his peripheral vision, and wraps itself around his arms and chest. It drags him backwards and pins him to the wall, tightening proportionally to how hard he struggles against it.

“Why are you following me?” The man’s voice is as cold as his expression as he steps out from the shadows on the other end of the alley. He steps forward slowly, deliberately, never taking his eyes off Charles.

 _Like a predator_ , Charles thinks hysterically, before the bands of metal around his torso tighten again. He gasps in shock as much as pain.

“I—I—”

“Answer me, or that will get a lot tighter.” The man stops just out of reach of Charles – if Charles could move his arms, that is – and studies him for a moment. “Or I could just kill you. Are you with Shaw?”

“Who’s Shaw?” Charles gasps. “I’m not—not trying to hurt you, and I’m not _with_ anyone. I was just in the bar and I wanted to introduce myself…I’m sorry if I startled you.”

The man’s expression doesn’t change. “If you’re lying, I will kill you.”

“I believe you,” Charles says. He’s not about to try to read the man’s mind now, but he can tell that much.

“Why did you want to introduce yourself?”

Charles coughs, trying to breathe against the constraints of the metal band. “Well, it’s,” he pants, “it’s not every day you meet another mutant, is it?”

“A what?” For the first time, the man’s expression shifts.

 _He doesn’t know_ , Charles realizes. _He’s never met anyone else_. “A mutant. Someone else with powers. Like what you can do with metal.”

The man looks very nearly staggered. “There are others?”

“Yes,” Charles says, speaking becoming almost impossible now. “Yes, I’m one of them too.”

The bands around his chest release suddenly, dropping him to the ground without warning. He lands hard on his wrist and knees, but it’s his ribs that protest loudest. He groans, staying down on the ground to catch his breath.

“What are your powers?” the man asks. “What can you do?”

“Telepath,” Charles forces out despite the pain in his ribs.

“Telepath,” the man repeats.

“Mind reading,” Charles explains. “Mind control, too, but I don’t generally—OW!”

The man drags him to his feet. “Are you reading my mind?” he growls, his hand still gripping Charles’ arm and mostly holding him upright.

“Not really,” Charles says through gritted teeth. “You’re…resistant, somehow. I thought that was your power, at first.”

The man lets go of him, and Charles collapses back, leaning against the wall of the alley to support himself.

“I don’t even know your name,” he says.

The man looks at him, almost warily. “Erik,” he finally says.

“Charles,” Charles says, although at this point he really just wants to get the hell away from Erik, mystery or not.

“I need to know more about mutants,” Erik says. “Come on.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Charles says. “You nearly broke my ribs.”

Erik seems to realize for the first time that Charles is in pain. “Oh…sorry.” It sounds as though he doesn’t say the word often. But it does sound sincere. “Are you alright?”

“I think so. Just bruised.”

“Come on,” Erik repeats. “I’ll—I can buy you a drink.”

“I’ll take a coffee.” Charles would rather keep his wits about him, even if it appears Erik has no plans to hurt him. He’s not entirely sure why he even wants to help him. Maybe he’s still just curious about how Erik is resisting his powers, or maybe it’s that Charles would never want another mutant to think he was the only one in the world.

“Before we go anywhere,” Charles says, “what were you doing in that bar?”

“It’s a long story,” Erik says, looking away.

“Be that as it may…I don’t know who’s chasing you, or who Shaw is, but if you want me to go anywhere with you I’m going to need to know something about you. All I know so far is that you were willing to kill me a second ago.”

“I probably wouldn’t have killed you,” Erik mutters.

“Reassuring.”

Erik sighs. “I need to know more about mutants because Shaw is one, too.”

“And this has something to do with why someone is chasing you?”

Erik nods. After a moment of hesitation, he rolls up his sleeve. Charles gasps at the row of numbers on his arm.

“Now you know the kind of people I was looking for in that bar,” Erik says tensely.

Charles scans Erik’s face, searching for any trace of dishonesty or malice. He finds none, but he feels off-kilter without the use of his powers.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s go. You owe me a coffee.”

*

As Charles explains human mutation – in hushed tones, so as not to be overheard by other members of the diner – he finds himself wishing his fellow academics were as interested listeners as Erik is. Erik listens silently and intensely, interrupting only to ask questions or request further explanation.

At the end of his impromptu lecture, Erik leans back, apparently absorbing the information. His first question is not what Charles expects it to be.

“So why can’t you read my mind?”

Charles blinks. “I’m not sure that I can’t, actually. It’s just a bit more difficult than most people, and I haven’t exactly had the opportunity to test it.”

Erik’s expression suggests he’d rather Charles not test it.

“But why is it more difficult?”

“I’m not sure. I do have a theory.” Charles takes a sip of his coffee, grimacing when he finds it’s gone cold. He pours another dash of cream into it, trying to cover the taste, leaving the spoon in the mug. “I think that your mutation might have something to do with it. Neurons use electricity to transmit information in the mind, and electricity and magnetism are the same physical force. It’s entirely possible that your powers give you some natural resistance to my abilities, although I have no way of proving that or explaining how it works.”

Charles takes another sip of his coffee, confused when the mug is warm in his hands. Then he sees the metal spoon glowing faintly red.

“Thank you,” he says, a little surprised.

Erik glances away, as though embarrassed by being caught.

“Well,” Charles says. “I hope you learned what you needed to about mutants. And I hope it helps you find Shaw.”

“I think that it will. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Charles says automatically, though he doubts he’ll ever have a night quite like tonight. “I should get home, or Raven will worry. Good luck, Erik.”

He winces as he stands, his bruised ribs twinging with any sudden movement. He must make some outward sign of pain, because Erik stands suddenly, arm outstretched to support Charles.

“Are you alright?”

Charles waves him off. “I’m fine, really. Just…forgot, I suppose.”

Erik’s face is unreadable. “I am sorry. I may have overreacted.”

Charles half-laughs. “Possibly. It seems you had a good reason, though.”

“I should make sure you get home in one piece.”

“What? No, it’s alright—”

Erik is resolute. “I’ll walk you home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don’t know about you, but the first time I met another adult mutant was like being hit by a thunderbolt. Far, far more powerful than being in love and our human wives knew it. Our eyes were brighter, our minds were faster. Sometimes we could spend seventy-two straight hours on the telephone just talking about our ideas for the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, a mere seven months later, there is FINALLY an update! Last semester was a lot rougher than I expected, and soemthing about this fic really gave me a hard time, though I'm not sure what it was. Hopefully the wait was worth it, and thanks to everyone who is still reading this!
> 
> Anyway, this fic tagged slow burn not because it takes them a long time to get together, but because it will take me approximately 2000 years to write them getting together...

Erik unlocks the door without thinking before Charles even locates his keys. Charles’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise and perhaps a little bit of fear, but he doesn’t comment.

“I should warn you,” he says instead, “my sister is here.”

“Your sister?” This sounds like Erik’s cue to leave. Making the acquaintance of one stranger is bad enough. Two would be a very poor decision indeed.

Charles nods. “Raven. She’s a mutant, too.”

Erik’s curiosity is further piqued, to his immense irritation. “What does she do?” he asks, even as his common sense screams at him not to.

“She’s quite a talented shapeshifter,” Charles says. He looks as if he’s trying not to smile. “Don’t stare, whatever you do.”

He steps into the house, obviously expecting Erik to follow.

 _Stupid_ , Erik thinks. Charles is so ridiculously trusting, turning his back on a stranger who has already proven dangerous. Perhaps it’s a result of being a telepath. Then again, it would be just as senseless to follow him in.

Erik hesitates in the doorway. It feels like a turning point, more than just talking to Charles. Not to mention it will be harder to get away quickly once he’s inside a building. He automatically begins cataloging exits, but he follows Charles through the door.

Charles glances around the living room, walking gingerly as though his ribs are still twinging. Erik feels a flicker of guilt.

“Raven!” Charles calls, not loudly, but it still makes Erik twitch. “I have a…um…a guest. So do please ah…be presentable.” He smiles at Erik’s expression, which must reveal some of his confusion.

“I thought you could project thoughts,” Erik says. For all he knows, Charles and Raven are having a separate conversation out of his hearing.

“Raven doesn’t want me inside her head for a number of reasons – not least of which because we live under the same roof.” Charles shrugs. “She’s entitled to her privacy.”

Not for the first time, Erik is faintly relieved that his power is not telepathy. It all seems immensely complicated – though interesting.

There’s no reason for Erik to stay here. He’s made sure Charles arrived safely at home, as promised. There’s no point in lingering, and in fact it could be dangerous to do so. Erik needs to keep moving.

And yet – there’s definitely a bruise forming at Charles’ collarbone where Erik had slammed him against the wall. Clearly it still stings, from the way Charles keeps touching it absentmindedly and wincing. And he’d told Erik about other mutants, people like him, despite having no reason at all to trust Erik.

Other than his telepathy, of course. Erik tries to shut off his internal monologue in case Charles is listening in.

He clears his throat. “Thank you,” he says, the words awkward and unfamiliar.

Charles raises his eyebrows.

“For…helping me. Telling me about other mutants. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No,” Charles agrees mildly. “But I’m glad I had the opportunity to do so.”

Erik is saved having to answer by Raven’s entrance.

 _Blue_ , Erik’s mind registers, stating the obvious. Even after Charles’ explanation, it had never really occurred to him that there are people who are very obviously mutants, unlike himself.

His first impression of Raven is mostly one of primary colors – red hair, yellow eyes with cat-like pupils – before he remembers Charles’ warning not to stare. He nods in Raven’s direction and glances away.

He can still feel her looking at him, sizing him up as much as he had been doing to her.

“Another stray?” she asks.

Erik wonders how Charles would possibly survive without his telepathy. Then he wonders why his thoughts have suddenly become so protective.

 “Not quite,” Charles replies to Raven, not elaborating. If he didn’t already know that Raven prefers Charles out of her head, Erik would assume that she and Charles are communicating telepathically from the look shared between them.

Then Raven spots the bruise Charles keeps unintentionally calling attention to. “What happened to you?” She glances back at Erik. “Did you save him from a mugging?”

“Ah—”

“No, just my clumsiness,” Charles lies with an ease that Erik finds nearly impressive.

He glances sharply at Charles, wondering why he’s covering for him.

“You find he’s astonishingly inept, for a telepath,” Raven sighs, directing this comment at Erik.

Erik almost smiles, but he reminds himself that he doesn’t know these people, as much as he feels that he does. He can’t afford to care about them, or to keep feeling twinges of guilt when Charles winces as he shifts his weight.

“I should be going,” Erik announces abruptly.

“What, now?” Charles asks too quickly.

Raven is frowning at him. Erik wonders if he’s imagining the suspicion in her eyes.

“Where are you planning to go?” Charles asks.

Erik hadn’t gotten that far.

“You’re welcome to stay,” Raven says, with a glance at Charles that Erik can’t decipher.

“I can’t.”

He is turning to leave when Charles’ voice inside his head stops him short.

_Will I see you again?_

Erik can’t read his tone of voice – so to speak – well enough to determine if he’s simply concerned or something more.

Charles seems to realize this, too. _It can’t be easy to absorb all this information so quickly. Finding out there are other mutants like you – that you’re not the only one – it’s a lot to take in, isn’t it? I can help you. And I’d like to._

Erik glances around, as though someone would point out to him how telepathic communication works. Raven is definitely looking at him with either suspicion or curiosity now. Possibly both.

 _It is…a lot to take in. I suppose_.

_If you’re not leaving the city yet…perhaps we could speak again._

_Some other time, perhaps_.

 _Of course_. Erik thinks he hears disappointment in Charles’ reply.

Even though he knows it’s the right thing – the safe thing – to do, Erik still regrets leaving. He wishes he could give himself a satisfactory explanation as to why.

Also, he has no idea what to do next.

*

Raven is giving him a look.

“What?” Charles asks.

She snorts. “You really don’t know?”

“Clearly not.”

“You obviously have a crush on him.”

“I do not—”

“And it’s not unrequited.”

“I…what?”

“I’ve never seen such a case of ‘I don’t know what these feelings are but I’m definitely having them.’ He was practically having an aneurysm.”

“You see what you want to see.”

Raven scoffs. “And for a telepath, you’re remarkably unobservant about people.”

*

Erik regrets leaving as soon as he steps back onto the street. In the first place, finding a place to sleep on this frigid night is remarkably unappealing compared to the offer of a warm bed.

For another thing, he can’t stop picturing Charles’ smile and warm blue eyes.

He’s also realizing that he still doesn’t know the first thing about mutants. He should have asked better questions when he had the chance. Useful questions, instead of being so shocked to find that he wasn’t the only one that he could barely think of questions at all.

He should have been more practical. Knowing that there are other mutants is…surprisingly heartening, but useless compared to information he needs to stop Shaw. He should have asked more about what kinds of things mutants can do, how they can be stopped, how to track them. How to find Shaw, in other words, or at least stay two steps ahead of him.

Instead, Erik let himself be caught up in Charles’ vision for the future. A future where mutants are part of society, rather than stuck on its edges. A naïve vision, in hindsight.

Still, his curiosity is piqued. To say the least.

If he had the time – the luxury – he might allow himself to entertain Charles’ utopian vision for a peaceful, coexistent future. As things are, Erik suspects that while Charles knows more about mutants than he does, he knows very little about the world outside academia.

It would be easy, not to mention the safer path, to forget about Charles and his impossible ideas entirely.

Except that the first part isn’t true at all. It would be extremely difficult, and Erik cannot explain why to himself.

He shakes his head, trying to clear it. If he’s going to be this distracted, he needs to find a place to think instead of wandering the streets aimlessly and without his guard fully up. Clearly, this is not a night of wise decisions.

Morning finds him back outside Charles’ apartment, having convinced himself that talking to Charles again is not only a good idea, but a necessary one. Erik hovers by the entrance, not quite willing to walk back inside.

As it turns out, he doesn’t have to, because Charles comes outside himself a few minutes later.

“Good morning.”

Charles leaps about a foot in the air and turns, eyes wide.

“Erik!” he gasps, hand going to his ribs as pain from the sudden movement hits. “You startled me.”

“I’m full of surprises,” Erik finds himself saying. “Are you alright?”

“Just sore. I’m fine.” Charles straightens up, but he’s inexperienced at hiding physical pain and it shows.

“I know how to treat bruised ribs,” Erik offers. “I can show you, and…well, I have more questions. About mutants. Have you eaten?”

“Not yet, I was just about to get something.” Charles is smiling, amused and vaguely delighted by Erik’s efforts.

“We could get breakfast,” Erik suggests, possibly more nervous than he’s ever been in his life.

“I’d like that,” Charles says, now positively beaming. “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the end of this fic, but who knows? Maybe check back in a year and a half.

**Author's Note:**

> The more I try to finish it, the longer it gets without really going anywhere... [peeks through fingers]
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
